


Incomplete Viggo/Orlando snippet

by kisahawklin



Series: Unfinished and discontinued fic [30]
Category: The Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-02-19
Updated: 2005-02-19
Packaged: 2018-09-19 06:29:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9422498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kisahawklin/pseuds/kisahawklin
Summary: Something I found over on LJ and didn't want to throw away.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [abundantlyqueer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/abundantlyqueer/gifts).



Orli’s ‘oof’ of surprise was supremely satisfying and Viggo sat himself comfortably on Orli’s stomach.

“Morning, sunshine.”

Orli groaned incoherently, not bothering to attempt getting up, or even shoving Viggo off.

Viggo raised an eyebrow. Maybe the kid was feeling somber today. He stood up, straddling Orli, and offered his hand. 

Orli simply let his head fall back and shut his eyes. Still nothing that could be construed as language.

“What’s the matter, Orli?” Viggo asked, crouching down over Orli’s prone form. “Need some more coffee?”

Orli shook his head and Viggo switched gears, gently cupping Orli’s cheek with his palm. 

“Orli,” he whispered. “Come on, Orli, look at me.”

Orli’s fake blue eyes opened and Viggo smiled down into them, sincere and unconsciously wolfish. “What?”

Orli smiled sadly, something Viggo catalogued as a rare item in his collection of Orli expressions. He took Orli’s hand and stood, tugging gently on Orli’s wrist while supporting his elbow. Orli complied and rose, brushing off his tunic. Viggo turned him around to pick leaves out of the long blond wig and heard him hum pleasantly.

"Dom and Lijah are shagging," Orli said, voiced barely above a whisper. Viggo nodded, he had known this since the beginning. When he realized Orli couldn't see his nod and was waiting for something of an answer, he hummed. 

"Mmm hmm." Orli sighed and Viggo, having picked all the leaves and twigs out of the wig, turned him around. Orli avoided Viggo's eyes. "What? Does it bother you?"

"No!" Orli answered, with heat. "I mean, no, I don't care who they're shagging, I just..." He looked down, and Viggo smiled at the blush that crept up his neck and pinked his cheeks. "I thought they were straight."

Viggo laughed. "Who says they're not?"

Orli frowned and gave a half shake of his head. "I thought..." He looked lost. Viggo liked the kid, but he was drowning in these philosophical waters.

"It's not so black and white, Orli. At least, not for everyone." Orli looked more upset than before, and Viggo knew he'd have to nip this in the bud or Orli would be nearly useless for the day. He put his hands on Orli's shoulders and pressed down firmly. This seemed to calm him, and Viggo smiled. Orli smiled back. "No more right now, okay?" Orli nodded. "We can talk about it later. Dinner?" Orli nodded again. The thoughtful look was still in his eyes, but Viggo had done what he could. He'd coax Orli into a better mood over coffee.

*

They spent the morning on the rocks outside Moria, capturing the essence of grief in Elijah’s too-blue eyes and Billy and Dom’s startling tears. After lunch the running commenced, the hustle and bustle of getting eight people from profound grief to relative safety. Finally, they ended in Lothlorien, grieving over a Gandalf that was filming on a sound stage in Wellington.

Viggo pulled Peter aside after they had wrapped for the day, discussing grief and his ideas for Aragorn, wondering if it was possible to develop the character in a different way. Peter said he’d talk to Fran and Philippa and Viggo nodded and trudged off to de-wigging.

A pleasant conversation with Bean later, he wandered off to wardrobe to deposit as much of his costume as he’d allow them to take. The surcoat stayed with him, and as always, the sword. The hobbits and Orli were talking loudly in the carpark, discussing plans for the evening. 

“Viggo,” Dom called, drawing out the name into a bizarre war cry.

Viggo nodded, somber and tired, wanting nothing more than to go home, have a beer, and fall asleep on the couch. He waved, ignoring their disgruntled noises and pleas and climbed in the car to go home, completely forgetting his promise of dinner to Orli.

*


End file.
